Tempting Fate
by Rhagar
Summary: Winter approaches and with it, the first year of peace after the end of the Crystal War. Alyana, now fully instated as the Archsage of the Scholia Arcana, can't help but reminiscence over the events that surrounded her resurrection... until a completely irritating but attractive woman shows up unannounced. Again. Fateless One/Ciara Sydanus


Disclaimer: KoA: Reckoning and everything associated with it is not mine, but Rhode Island's property.

This fic was originally called _Reminiscence._ You may recall a fic with that name in this fandom; I pulled it down from this site but I'm the same author. Explanations at the end if anyone's interested. The idea is basically the same, but it's almost a completely different fic.

 **Started editing on 10/07/2018**

 **Finished editing on 22/08/2018**

* * *

 **Tempting Fate**

With a look of boredom plain on her face, Alyana flipped through the pages of an old tome in the her chambers, located in the upper floor of one of the towers. The facility meant only for the Arcshages was certainly grand, but it was buried underground and there were days when she preferred to stay under the star-filled sky in order to relax a little.

A day much like today, for example.

Therefore, she had quickly decided she'd have another chamber for the Archsage built as high in the building as possible, with an added balcony in case she ever wanted to enjoy a little breeze. Alyana loved the end result: her new chambers were a set of extremely comfortable rooms and workshops, warm and quite big.

She hadn't been all that worried about the expensive cost either, the school's finances had been better off than she'd ever expected when she assumed her new office. The Scholia had coin to spare, not to mention her own personal hoard of gold she'd accumulated over the course of the year and half travelling all over the Faelands before the end of the war, so it wasn't like they'd suddenly become strapped for cash.

Looking up at the large open windows that led to the balcony, Alyana could feel the faint chill of the air coming from the west. Winter would reach them soon, signifying the first year of peace since the end of the Crystal War. Even now, so many months past from the conflict, she was still coming to grips with things.

The Archsage let out a small sigh, pushing away locks of white hair that had fallen over her eyes. She had to make a conscious effort to ignore the heaviness of her eyelids, even though she knew she should go to sleep already.

There were days when the nightmares would simply not let her sleep. Sometimes, it was a humongous blood-red dragon looming over her, roaring to the heavens and engulfing her in scorching flames; sometimes, it was the soft-spoken, disembodied voice of the Demon, beckoning her to his service, promising her the power of Chaos to shape and break the world so long as she knelt to him and promised him eternal servitude…

Other times, she dreamt of herself, wreathed in dark blue energy and standing bloody atop a mountain of corpses, laughing as if everything was just one great joke.

And one the rare pleasant nights, a woman filled her dreams: a dark-haired beauty clad in ancient robes and armed with nothing but a charming smile. Those dreams were filled with the sight of vibrant green eyes, even though there was always an unnerving aura about the woman.

Blinking blearily, Alyana let out a small groan when she realized she'd dozed off for a moment. The book she'd been reading laid half-opened on the bed beside her, fallen to the side. She resisted the urge to yawn.

"Dammit."

Her gaze wandered lazily around the room before it settled on the fire merrily cracking within the fireplace. With a soft smile on her face, Alyana burrowed further into the blankets covering her, but said smile soon disappeared as her mind quickly jumped back to the dreams that usually plagued her nights.

When she was still wrapping her mind around the fact she'd been effectively brought back from the dead, it had taken some time but it eventually became obvious that her own body reacted as if it had been born and bred to fight and kill. With every battle she fought and won, the better she killed: reflexes were sharper, thrusts and blows were stronger and it got to the point she could weave between throngs of enemies with considerable ease, finding the small gaps in their formation and wreaking havoc among their lines.

Alyana didn't like thinking about those immediate days after she realized what was happening. It was just one more reminder of the freakish circumstances surrounding her resurrection, but it was also a terrifying thought because it affected a fundamental part of herself.

It wasn't like pieces of armor, which you could put on or get rid of whenever you wanted. This was the core of Alyana's self, a woman forged to wage war and spread death.

"But you get used to it. You always get used to things as time goes," she muttered to herself, repeating the mantra she'd taken up so long ago.

The worst of it was that despite her unease, Alyana couldn't deny that her powers were amazing. Entering the Reckoning state, as she'd come to call it, was nothing short of a power trip every time. There was a certain thrill in the battle that made her feel alive with all the adrenaline pumping through her system. The rush of clashing against her enemies in a fight to the death and coming out on top.

But Alyana knew she couldn't lose herself in the hazy sensation of excitement and power. Her ability was a power unlike anyone had ever seen before and it would be too easy to abuse it. The nightmares of herself drunk on power and becoming a ruthless warlord were frightening in their intensity.

Perhaps that's why she'd taken her new position as the new Archsage of the Scholia Arcana with surprising zeal. Magic had always come easy to her, but it wasn't until she'd started working in the school that she realized the countless possibilities it allowed for. Every day held a possible new discovery and that was incredibly exciting, a different kind of excitement from the one found in a battlefield.

Jumping from her bed with a slight grin, Alyana exited the room to the balcony. Leaning over the railway, she looked down on the school's courtyard. It was always rewarding to see how far had come the Scholia under her leadership.

The courtyard had underwent a renovation and expansion to give the garden for the alchemic reactive agents room to grow, with new seeds being brought every week. Alyana herself had contributed to its growth, adding several seeds from her personal cache that she'd collected during her travels all over the Faelands. With the increased flux of reagents, the students and Savants could create more and other different potions, providing an increased stream of income for the School.

But of course, the garden hadn't been the only thing that had improved in the time Alyana had spent as Archsage. Many among the newest cadre of students, inspired by her own example, wanted to have a solid foundation in battle magic and elemental spells. Alyana always found their drive and determination to learn everything they could inspiring and more than once, she had taken over their classes as a treat.

In fact, teaching was perhaps the most surprising development that came out of her becoming Archsage. For all her unorthodox approach to learning magic, she found herself enjoying teaching the school's students.

' _My_ _students now,'_ Alyana quickly corrected herself with a fond smile, letting the gentle night air caress her face.

Fighting was thrilling, but there was nothing quite like the rush of satisfaction she got from seeing the look of understanding after helping a student that had problems with a spell or the grateful looks they gave her, especially the younger ones. It made her believe she was actually doing something right. Helping them learn new things was even useful to her, since the constant practice of magic abilities allowed her to greatly improve her own skills.

Her teleportation ability had benefited greatly from all the evasion classes and exercises she'd devised for the students, for example. If it had been a handy ace in her arsenal before, it was probably her most prized ability now.

"I might have to teach it to Urthan, come to think of it. She's progressing quickly in her studies, it could be a good reward," Alyana mused out loud.

Urthan Nara had been an unexpected surprise from joining the Scholia. As one of the the first people she met on the school, they struck a conversation over Sagecrafting tips and quickly became fast friends. It was obvious to Alyana whenever she visited that the Dokkalfar sagecrafter had more potential than most others in the Scholia. That is why Alyana decided to help her in her studies and improve her magic, sort of mentoring her into Savanthood even if Urthan's main interest was Sagecrafting.

' _In fact, Urthan is already gaining the recognition of some of the older Sagecrafters. She will be ready for her trial before long.'_

"You seem to be pensive again, my friend. Mayhaps I could inquire as to what you're thinking?" a charming, rich voice very near her left suddenly cut through her musings, catching her off guard.

With a glance, Alyana easily recognized the ancient but elegant garments of the Dark Empyrean, Ciara Sydanus. The other Dokkalfar was leaning with infuriating indolence against the balcony's railing and standing startlingly close to her. Ciara's mane of dark hair was tousled by the breeze and caught Alyana's eyes despite herself.

"I thought I made clear that I didn't want to see you again around Rathir," she muttered with a frown, trying to calm the bucking of her heart from the woman's unexpected appearance. "And this is my private chamber. You could respect that at least."

Every time she saw Ciara, Alyana wasn't sure if she wanted to throttle or welcome the woman.

"That you did, _Archsage_ ," Ciara drawled, clearly amused at what she perceived to be a silly title, "But you said that last time… and the previous one, and the previous one before that - I suppose you just weren't forceful enough. And well, if you _really_ wanted me out, you should have put stronger wards here. Not that it would have made a difference, of course."

Alyana scoffed at Ciara's laugh.

"Have you made up your mind about my offer, anyway?" Ciara then asked, a tilted smile on her face.

"Still with that? No thanks," the Archsage deadpanned with a roll of her eyes before pushing off the railing and going back into the room to avoid looking at the deep green eyes of the other Dokkalfar.

"It's a great offer, you know!"

"Maybe. Still not interested," Alyana replied with a shrug as she jumped onto her bed and grabbed the book from before, burying her face in it. She couldn't even remember what it was about and focusing on the pages only gave her an extremely dry passage about the expenditure of mana by inexperienced mages. She grimaced. "Besides, you'd eventually target Erathell again and I'd have to stop you _again_ from attacking my new home."

However, Ciara wouldn't let Alyana shift her attention away from her. Using her magical prowess, the Dark Empyrean suddenly appeared next to Alyana, grabbing the book and flinging it away before the white-haired woman could react.

"None of that now, you stubborn woman. Tell me, why would I do such a thing? You spared my life and in my time, that sort of thing meant something. I can't forget that."

Alyana let out a long-suffering sigh of irritation. She couldn't remember how many times they'd had this conversation and the look Ciara was not helping matters!

"When we fought and I _won_ , I let you live. I sneaked you out of Rathir to give you another chance because I was sick of killing and endangering all the people of Rathir who had nothing to do with our fight. I thought that as long as you didn't stir trouble again, you could be left alone after what you'd gone through," she explained, rubbing her eyes in an effort to will away her exhaustion before looking up at Ciara with narrowed eyes. "But if you start something, I _will_ stop you."

The moment she uttered those words, Ciara flashed to Alyana's bed, appearing next to the white-haired Dokkalfar with a wide grin on her face.

Startled, Alyana reared back and fell onto the mattress with a gasp. "What the _fuck_?!"

"This! This is the passion that I wanted to see! If only you could see yourself the way I do! So much potential, such inner fire that burns within you. I don't want to lie to myself, to turn back from what I want. I want _you_ , Alyana."

"I still didn't give you permission to jump onto my bed. Get out," she tersely ordered, voice thick with anger.

Ciara blinked, unsure of herself, but it was only a brief moment before her usual confident demeanor was back in place, returning that cocky, charming smile of hers to her face.

"As you wish," she said, rolling out of the bed with a flighty step and hovering on the air in a lazy posture. Seeing that, Alyana had to suppress a brief stab of jealousy - Ciara couldn't know that she had yet to work out how to actually use the flight ability some mages possessed, right?

"I apologize if I have made you uncomfortable, but as I said, I-"

"Don't shy away from admitting what I want, _I know_ ," Alyana finished the sentence before letting out a tired sigh. "Will you never get tired of this game?"

"You think this is a game for me? I take winning your affections very seriously, I'll have you know."

"Why? I didn't save your life just so you could become infatuated with me! Is this so important to you that you'd never get tired of hounding me down for a simple _yes_?!" Alyanna suddenly yelled as she stood from the bed.

Perhaps finally sensing the seriousness of the situation, Ciara cancelled her flight spell and took to the ground once more with nary a sound. The woman that once ruled all over Erathell examined Alyana's face with an intense look before speaking up.

"I can't speak for others but to me, you are a fascinating woman, Alyana. I will never forget the moment where you stood in front of me, cloaked with Fate itself as it bent to your will, ready to strike me down. But more than that, you let me live. We had clashed several times before and I was fully prepared to destroy everything around me that day but you stopped me; and yet, when I was on the ground in front of you, bleeding and at death's door… you healed me, let me _live_. How could _anyone_ take that lightly? So yes, this is very important to me."

Stunned, Alyana could only stare in shock at the woman in front of her. Ciara had never been so open with what went through her head, preferring to act coy and mischievous in all of her visits and her unexpected frankness threw the Fateless One for a loop.

"You – I never thought…"

Giving her one of her usual smirks, Ciara reached out with a hand and cupped Alyana's cheek. "You shouldn't be surprised. You are an enchanting woman, after all."

A part of Alyana's mind screamed at her, warning her to get away from the woman standing so very close to her, but Alyana's body wouldn't budge from her spot, rooted to the ground as she was. She could only stand there, looking deep into vibrant green eyes, the same eyes that plagued her dreams.

Raising a hand, she grabbed Ciara's and left it there, unsure of what she actually wanted to do… but then, she blinked and pulled away, growling. "Dammit, this is… You're supposed to be a mad tyrant! Butcher of thousands! Not a woman acting like - like a love-struck teenager!"

However, Ciara merely smirked at Alyana's attempt to rile her up. "Change is often a bloody, violent thing. Without it, society becomes stagnant over time and everything starts to fall apart. Just because I was ruthless in controlling _my_ lands doesn't mean I'm crazy or incapable of feelings."

"That's not-"

"I know what history says about me, thanks," Ciara cut her off with a dark glare. "Do you really believe all you read in those books is true?"

"Of course not, but all tales have a grain of truth to them, even you have to admit that," Alyana countered.

"Oh, don't be that naïve, do you– wait, what are you doing?" Ciara's anger, which had started to boil when she saw Alyana doubting her word, quickly gave way to confusion when she saw the other Dokkalfar taking the outer blanket from her bed and walking towards the comfy armchair placed in front of the brick fireplace.

"What does it look like I'm doing? Since you don't seem to be leaving anytime soon, I'm getting comfortable. It's a chilly night," Alyana groused, eliciting a surprised laugh from Ciara.

"If you were cold, you could have told me. Do you want me to warm you up?" the former Queen asked and though Alyana could hear the teasing in her voice, she still rolled her eyes at the offer.

"No."

"Well, never let it be said I didn't offer. Fortunately, hope is the last thing a girl loses."

Alyana just gave her a grunt for a response before settling down on the armchair, wrapping her body with the blanket. She could have tried warming her body with her own magic, but regulating the temperature with the addition of the magically-created warmth was tricky and more than one hapless mage had burned themselves out by not being careful enough while using such a complex application of fire magic.

Given Ciara's presence, she'd rather not chance it.

The slight flutter of her robes blown by the wind was Alyana's only signal that Ciara walked towards her, as her soft steps made no sound. She turned her head just in time so see how Ciara's hand reached out to trail down the side of her neck with a feather-light touch before she moved away to the fireplace and leant against its bricked frame.

"As I was saying, I was the overthrown ruler; a fair portrayal is not something they'd give me. I was ruthless, yes; I suppose I could easily be called a tyrant, but regardless of what history says about me, I certainly didn't use my subjects for dark rituals nor did I crave an endless, mindless spilling of blood like a bloodthirsty niskaru," Ciara declared, the corners of her mouth curling downwards in a grimace of disgust.

"What about the three founders of the Scholia, then? Were they lying when they rose up against you?"

"No, but neither is their tale a completely honest or accurate one. For one, that blasted girl was never born in a mine, I can tell you that much. In fact, her blindness came from a fight of ours. Remember, victors write history as it suits them."

There was no mistaking Ciara's anger and her words felt genuine, but Alyana was still skeptical of someone considered to be one of the worst individuals that had lived in the Faelands.

"And yet they are not here to offer their explanations, are they not? For all I know, you're lying to me right now, trying to get into my good graces with nice platitudes."

Ciara abruptly left her slouched position against the fireplace's bricked frame, her whole body shaking from rage. "You would question my words? I have been nothing but truthful in my dealings with you!" Ciara exclaimed and though Alyana didn't move from the armchair, her whole body tensed the moment she felt the magic gathering within Ciara.

' _If she snaps... I'll put her down.'_

"It is a reasonable concern," she said with a cool voice, refraining from voicing her thoughts.

The two women glared at each other, trying to get the other to back dawn, but both were powerful and stubborn in equal measure. For several moments filled with thick tension, the only sound that broke the silence was the fire behind Ciara crackling merrily, completely unperturbed by the volatile standoff happening in the room.

But then Ciara let her body sag down, releasing all the tension within it. "So it is," she conceded with a harsh frown, unable to look at Alyana. "I have never denied my actions when I was queen, you know that. Here I am, however, speaking instead of trying to kill you for a second time. I've visited you several times already and never have I done anything to warrant such suspicion. Would you say I'm still the ruthless Queen of ancient Erathell?"

"Maybe not now, but you still did all those things… whatever they were. I haven't been able to find concrete details beyond how there was no atrocity too horrible for you to win the war," Alyana rebuked.

"Of all the options at your disposal, you had to pick the most egregious one. _The Dark Empyrean_ … bah, mostly bogus, that's what it says: there's only a handful of details that the author actually got right and he fails to mention how the side of those blasted fools was hardly any better."

"Funny, that's exactly what someone in your position would say," Alyana remarked with obvious sarcasm. "But you still did all those things many imply you did, right?"

"And I have never denied that! I did things many would call horrible for the sake of victory, but there were lines even I wouldn't cross. I was stern and ruthless in my reign but I was no crazed madman - I never wanted to rule over a kingdom of ashes! I have killed thousands by my own hand and dozens of thousands more were killed on my orders… but never against those subjects that remained loyal to me! Judge me for it if that's your wish, but my war happened hundreds of years ago; even the memory of my existence faded away from living memory except for these so-called silly _Archsages_. Nowadays, I only exist in the lines of dusty old books," Ciara decried, bitterness lacing her voice.

The Fateless One looked at the woman in front of her, noting the stiffness in the posture of her fellow Dokkalfar. "You are… not what I expected," she finally admitted. "Though I still find it hard to believe someone like you could even feel something like love."

However, whatever reaction Alyana expected, it was certainly not Ciara stepping forward and reaching out to take Alyana's hands into her own. "You have killed your fair share of people too, Alyana, I know this to be true. If I'm so heartless, shouldn't you be incapable of love as well, then?"

"Well, who was the one to call herself the Dark Hearted when confronted? Certainly not me!" the Archsage exclaimed with an accusatory tone.

"I wasn't aware a flair for theatrics was a crime in this day and age."

"Oh, it was more than that and you know it. Don't change the subject."

"Well, what do you want me to say, Alyana?" Ciara groaned. "That I'm a monster? Is that what you wish to hear to validate your unfounded beliefs? Because if you were to believe everything you've heard and read from biased wretches who didn't know better, you would know that yes, I'm a complete monster! Why would one of my monikers be the Dark Hearted otherwise?"

"Ciara—"

But the former Queen of Erathell didn't listen. "Yes, I am the Empyrean, the Dark Hearted, the Lady of Sorrow and Dust! I am all that! Mocking names which I made my own until they became names of terror. Is this what you wanted to hear, Alyana?" she yelled with scorn.

The air around them became charged and the newest Archsage feared that a veritable storm of lightning would be unleashed in the room should Ciara truly snap. Rising from her seat without a word, Alyana watched as Ciara remained rooted on her spot, her whole body shaking from anger. Her intense green eyes were narrowed into slits, a mistrustful glare shining in them as she walked up to the former queen.

"Ciara…" Alyana immediately trailed off with a grimace, not knowing what to say. Nevertheless, she still tried to push forward. "Look, this is strange for me, okay? You cannot expect me to suddenly be alright with what you're asking of me and- No, no, let me finish! What I'm trying to say… I wasn't around when you were the queen. Were you really as bad as history says you were? I can't know that, but you yourself admitted you did terrible things to the other side. The fact you're standing here in front of me now doesn't change that."

"I saved your life because I saw a desperate woman fighting for her freedom, lashing out at her captors like a cornered animal would. I was told time and time again you were bad news, but do you want to know what I saw under all the bluster and threats of infinite destruction moments before we fought on the Courtyard?"

"What?" Ciara's voice was a mere whisper and her whole body was slumped, as if she was suddenly tired of it all. The glare from moments before had cooled into an uncomfortable look of shame and embarrassment, avoiding Alyana's gaze.

Fully aware of how risky it was given Ciara's somewhat volatile nature, the white-haired Dokkalfar took a gamble and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Ciara looked up to her. "I saw relief. I can guess the reasons, but buried under your bravado and the whole 'fire and blood' attitude, I saw a woman who only felt relieved to finally be free."

Standing so close to Ciara, Alyana could clearly see how the woman's brow creased faintly in thought, the way the pupils of her eyes flickered ever so slightly while she looked at her, how her lips were half-open, parted invitingly for someone to-

A sudden weight over the hand she'd placed on Ciara's shoulder distracted her from her absorbed inspection and Alyana drew backwards a bit, looking down to see one of Ciara's hands grabbing her own with a gentle grip.

"You'd be a blind fool if you truly thought that was simple bravado," she said, but there was no real bite in her words.

"Of course not, I know you've committed plenty of crimes. Still, one thing doesn't negate the other."

"I could be plotting my return, you know. Biding my time until I find a way to take you down and retake my throne over Erathell."

"Yes, it's a possibility. However, it's been a year since the end of the Crystal War, longer since our confrontation in the courtyard down below. You've been visiting me for months and not once have I heard anything about a suspicious-looking, dark-haired Dokkalfar woman skulking about in the shadows. I'm willing to take the chance."

"That could simply mean I'm good at hiding my presence," Ciara remarked but she knew it was a token attempt even before Alyana laughed, giving her a funny look.

"Ciara, you were the Queen of Erathell and you gave me a bombastic edgy line seconds before we fought each other. You _don't_ do subtle."

"Why, I can do subtle!" Ciara denied with indignation, but it quickly crumbled under Alyana's skeptical look. "It was always one of my least used talents, anyway" she finally muttered in a roundabout way with clear reluctance.

"Well, at least you can admit it."

"Does this mean you're giving me a chance?"

"You're not going to give it a rest, aren't you?" Alyana asked with a groan of defeat. The small smile that Ciara gave her made her shut up, feeling a strong flush creep up her cheeks.

' _Idiot! Don't give her what she wants!'_

Huffing, Alyana turned around and sat down on her armchair once more, covering herself with the blanket. Without the book that could very well be considered a makeshift remedy for insomnia, Alyana could only look away from Ciara in an attempt to ignore her.

"Regardless of what happens, conversations like these prove to me that fighting for you is worth it. We can make _us_ work, we only have to put some effort into it," Ciara said, walking closer to the armchair.

"Look, I took a gamble on you, Ciara, and it seems to have paid off, but I didn't ask for you to get infatuated with me," the Archsage grumbled.

"But don't you see, Alyana? I'm glad it was you who freed me, because I'd have never met you otherwise! My past is just that, my past. Instead of being chained down to it, I wish to look forward to what future may have in store for me. For us."

"You really believe that? Any relationship between us is doomed to failure," the white-haired Dokkalfar warned.

But Ciara wasn't going to be deterred so easily. Knowing that she needed something to help Alyana wrap her mind around what she was offering her, the former Queen of Erathell made a snap decision.

Bending down just enough to bring their faces to the same level, Ciara went straight for Alyana's lips and kissed her before she could react. It was a simple kiss, merely pressing softly her lips against Alyana's for several moments before withdrawing, but it was enough to send the Archsage into a shocked silence, eyes wide open with surprise.

When they broke the kiss, neither of them dared to break the ensuing silence that settled over the room. Even the fire merrily crackling over at the fireplace was relegated to a very distant place in their minds, so absorbed in each other as they were.

"Despite what people would say about me, I still have a beating heart. How could I not feel attraction and love, if I can feel hatred and contempt?" she declared with complete seriousness, still inches away from Alyana's face, only for the white-haired Dokkalfar to groan helplessly.

"Lyria's breath, Ciara. Really?"

Flustered, Ciara shot up to her feet and crossed her arms over her chest, looking everywhere but at Alyana. "Well, 'tis hardly my fault, I've been imprisoned for centuries; my lines are more rusty than the sands of Detyre! Cut me some slack!"

Hearing that, Alyana couldn't help but burst out laughing at the comparison, smiling softly once the laughter died down and shaking her head in fond exasperation. For all that she tried reminding herself of Ciara's bloody past in an attempt to keep her at arm's length, the woman in front of her was so earnest and genuine that she often caught herself slipping into a state of acceptance of her presence.

' _Is this so wrong?'_ Alyana questioned herself. _'Could I condemn her for something that happened so long ago? Pass justice on crimes long forgotten by everyone? Should I even do it?'_

Could she knowingly draw her weapons and magic and make the conscious effort to kill Ciara should the need arise? Deep down, Alyana knew that she'd hesitate to kill Ciara if it came down to it. Regardless of who walked away from that hypothetical fight, such hesitation would speak volumes.

Most of the people, monsters and beings she'd killed had initiated their confrontation. Their deaths had never bothered Alyana to the point of crippling self-doubt because in most cases she was just defending herself… but she had to admit to herself that killing Ciara would be something completely different.

"You say that any relationship between us is bound to fail, but I believe otherwise. No one but us two know that I'm still alive, none of your students ever saw my features. None would ever possibly imagine the woman standing next to the Archsage to be Ciara Sydanus, the Dark Empyrean. What are you so afraid of, Alyana?"

Said woman didn't look at Ciara, opting to change the topic instead. "What about the Scholia, tough? As you said the day we fought, it's the legacy of the people that rebelled against your rule... but it's my new home now. As its new leader, I'd have to stop you if you tried to destroy it."

Ciara didn't respond immediately to that remark. She took a deep breath, face marred by the faint traces of a scowl, and then she addressed Alyana's words. "This place, this Scholia - it's the legacy of those _three_. Nothing would make me happier than to step backward in time and have my vengeance, yes… to make them suffer as I suffered," she declared with a murderous glint in her eyes and Alyana could only think that Ciara's bloody past as warlord Queen of Erathell was perhaps a little more believable after seeing that look on her face.

But the moment passed and next time she knew, the dark-haired Dokkalfar spoke up once again, face placid if with pursed lips. "However, those three are dead now, little more than lines in history book just like I was until not long ago. I will live on, knowing that in the end I got the last laugh over them. I told you I wanted to look forward to the future and I intend to keep that promise," Ciara said, looking at her in that way that did strange things to her stomach.

"Well. That's… that's good to know."

"That said, maybe I could impose on your generosity just a little bit? Would you allow me to blast their statues to smithereens?" the former Queen asked with hopeful eyes. The laughter that bubbled out of Alyana's throat received an early death when she realized Ciara was entirely serious.

"What? No! How would I even explain their sudden destruction?"

"Maybe only the statue of the wretched girl? You could always say that you were practicing in the courtyard at night and destroyed it by accident!"

Alyana remained unmoved, however. "No, Ciara, the statues will stay. There are plenty of ruins in the Faelands for you to vent your pent-up frustration all you want."

"Tsk, very well. You drive a hard bargain, my white-haired beauty."

"Now you're just trying too hard," Alyana said with an eyeroll. "Are we done with the heart to heart? I _do_ have to get some sleep at some point, you know."

"Oh don't be such a boorish grouch, you loved it. And it has been a long month since my last visit, too!"

"Well yes, but every time you 'visit' you risk someone from the Scholia seeing you."

"Oh my, do you consider me to be your dirty little secret? I can be as dirty as you want," Ciara replied, her fiendish smile widening when Alyana spluttered at the remark.

"Ugh, you bitch."

Ciara laughed, deeply amused by her reaction, but it soon faded away into a content silence and then she turned towards the fireplace, staring at the flames licking away at the logs inside.

"It would be so much easier if I acted like the Queen I once was, would it not?" she asked with a wistful smile. "You'd have no second thoughts about sparing me, no guilt over letting me go. It'd be so simpler, just another raving beast to put down... but life is rarely so simple: here I am, after all, attempting to court the woman that freed me."

"Don't forget the woman that you tried to kill. The same woman who also wiped the floor with you when you went mad with said freedom."

"Not my proudest moment, I will admit. On both accounts," Ciara said with a wince. "I hope you don't hold it against me when you consider my proposal."

"Well, _I_ hope badgering me whenever you visit and being a pain in the arse are not your version of courting, because you'd have a curious definition of it, then."

"In my defense, I am centuries old. I'm sure I could plead innocence on the basis of being quite old-fashioned," Ciara drawled, glancing at Alyan over her shoulder from the corner of her eyes.

Alyana snorted, feeling a smile grow on her face despite herself. "I don't feel guilty, though," she eventually said in a soft voice.

"About what?" Ciara asked as she turned from the fireplace to face her. However, Alyana still avoided her gaze. With an awkward look on her face, her eyes remained entirely focused on the fireplace.

"About letting you live; I don't feel guilty at all. In fact, I'd probably do it again if given the chance."

It felt good admitting what she'd long kept to herself as the words tumbled out of her mouth. It felt like a heavy weight had been finally lifted off her shoulders. Yes, for all that Ciara had most likely done unspeakable things in the past, Alyana still didn't regret sparing her.

Finally looking up from the fireplace to Ciara, she was struck silent by the sheer intensity of her vibrant green eyes, distinctly aware of her heartbeat rising steadily to a powerful hammering in her chest. Licking her lips with nervousness that she hadn't felt in a long while, the Archsage cursed her all-too-sudden parched mouth.

"Is that what you truly think, Alyana? Would you really never regret saving my life?"

"Never." For better or worse, Ciara Sydanus had wormed her way into her hearth and it didn't look like she was going to leave anytime soon.

Alyana had been in more life or death fights than she could think of. Her battle instincts had been sharpened in every scrape for survival, finely honed with every wound she received. From the moment she woke up in the Well of Souls to the moment where she sent Tirnoch crashing down into the abyss below the Winter Court, Alyana had gradually transformed into a fearsome enemy, even if it was out of necessity, rather than any inherent desire to become as such for its own sake.

And yet, those battle instincts she'd developed during the war did little to help her when Ciara pounced on her. Before she knew it, Ciara was already perched over her on the armchair, hands resting on her shoulders and legs straddling her thighs. Startled, Alyana found herself with Ciara's lips drawing tantalizingly close to her own and she gulped, unable to look away.

"You know… a girl could get used to hearing things like that."

Ciara's voice was a low purr that rose from the back of her throat, quickly setting Alyana's overstimulated brain into tireless work to fill her mind with plenty of lurid imagery to accompany the suggestive tone of her words.

"What… are you doing?" Alyana hated how her voice came out as a high-pitched squeak all of a sudden.

"Once, I took what I wanted regardless of the consequences, just like I did moments ago… but if this is to be a new beginning, I want - I _must_ do this right - to know that you want this as much as I do," Ciara said, her voice a mere whisper, before learning closer to Alyana, now merely inches apart. "Can I—"

"Gods, yes!" Even though she'd blurted it out, Alyana knew that she wanted this, damn the consequences.

Ciara didn't need to be told twice. Gently brushing a lock of white hair away from Alyana's face, she tilted her head to the side, her own dark hair falling in waves as it framed her face. Their eyes met for an instant, sharing everything that their words hadn't expressed out loud, but then Ciara struck, capturing Alyana's lips with a passion that caught the white-haired Dokkalfar off guard for a moment.

Unlike before however, Alyana expected the kiss this time and she knew what she was getting into. It only took her mere seconds to gather her bearings before she eagerly reciprocated Ciara's passion with her own.

Thoughts melted away in the face of the pleasant sensations coursing through Ciara - the flush of her cheeks that matched the tingling warmth spreading all over her body, the soft sweetness of Alyana's mouth as it pressed against her own, her warm hands cupping the younger Dokkalfar's cheeks with a feather-light caress before they sneaked up to the back of her neck, trailing teasingly all over the skin with a touch that sent electrifying jolts of pleasure to Alyana.

Before Alyana realized it, the kiss had ended and she was staring up at Ciara as a breathless mess, giddy and ready to burst from the sudden tightness in her chest. It still took her a moment to get her bearings back and give a verdict, painfully aware of the burning between her legs.

"That was... _wow_."

Ciara's expectant look quickly shifted into a smug smirk when Alyana spoke, as if her reaction had been a foregone conclusion. "I tend to have that effect on people, yes."

Still stunned from the kiss, Alyana still needed a few moments to compose herself, enjoying the warm flush spreading all over her body.

"So… what now?" she finally asked. She was unable to look away from Ciara's face this time. She'd always known on an intellectual level that Ciara was beautiful, but… had she ever looked so enchanting before, as if she were positively glowing? Alyana didn't think so.

Smirking, Ciara hopped off the plush armchair and the Archsage was distinctly disappointed to feel how her arms left their embrace on her neck.

"Now? Now I know my efforts aren't in vain; your affections may not be the lands of Erathell, but they certainly are a more precious reward," the former Queen declared.

"As long as you don't do anything crazy…"

"Have some faith in me! Have I not avoided making the unwashed masses my adoring subjects a second time? Besides which, I'm not worried: I know I'm the only one who could make you happy."

"Woah there, girl, arrogant much?"

"It is hardly arrogance, but rather confidence. _'Know thy enemy',_ as my mentors used to say. There are very few people who could challenge me for your love."

"Love is more than an arbitrary measuring bar based on someone's worth, you know," Alyana replied with a wholly unamused look, but Ciara refused to budge.

"Do not fool yourself, Alyana. Would you truly settle down with a simple farmer or blacksmith? We both know they would always play second fiddle to you, the power imbalance in the relationship would be too great."

"And who would be an appropriate lover for me then? Wait, let me guess. You." Alyana's voice dripped with heavy sarcasm but if Ciara noticed it, she made no mention of it.

"Of course! I have centuries of magical knowledge at my disposal and at one point, I was the ruler of a powerful kingdom that spanned all of Erathell. Who could be better than me to be your partner? Two individuals of equal will, joined together in harmony," she reasoned. Then, her seriousness crumbled when she gave Alyana a somewhat lecherous grin. "It also helps that you look amazing. Me too, of course, but you especially."

"Good to know you have your priorities straight, I guess…" Alyana muttered while rolling her eyes, but there was little heat in her words.

"Nevermind that now. How far along are you on flight magic? What about the Blink ability? How much power output do you have for the high-tier spells? By Lyria, there is so much I wish to show you, so much to teach you!" Ciara suddenly exclaimed, an eager grin on her face. She almost looked like a rich spoiled kid on her birthday, asking how many presents she had that year.

Unfortunately, Alyana was unable to suppress the yawn that burst from her mouth. "Hold your horses, girl. It's way past midnight and even _I_ need to sleep sometimes. Can we continue this some other day?"

Startled, the former queen looked to the position of the moon on the sky past the double doors of the balcony. "Oh, I hadn't realized… well, just think on it for next time."

"Hm-hm, yeah sure," Alyana said nonchalantly, rising up from the armchair and retrieving the book from where it had fallen on the floor before.

"Enjoy your sleep. Hopefully I'm the star of your dreams," Ciara said with a laugh.

"Oh, get out, you cocky idiot!" Alyana exclaimed as she flung the book at her head. Unfortunately, Ciara was already gone and only her laugh hung in the air for a moment before it too faded away. "Tsk, that idiot woman, so bothersome…"

But despite her complaints, Alyana couldn't quite do away with the smile that tugged at her lips or the flush of her cheeks whenever she thought back to their kisses. Maybe giving 'them' a serious try wouldn't be so bad.

"So long as her pick-up lines improve… At this point, I'll take everything I can get," she grumbled, retrieving once more the book before placing it on the nightstand and sliding into her bed with another large yawn. Luckily, she didn't have any pressing appointments later tod-

 _Shit_.

She just remembered she was supposed to take the Initiates on an expedition to the underground tunnels below Tala-Rane tomorrow at daybreak. Well… Good thing she was the Archsage.

"I'll have Urthan do it. A learning experience for Savanthood. Yes, that should hold up." If she managed to control a bunch of inexperienced and reckless mages, then few things would faze her anymore. The perfect excuse, really.

' _You're a genius, Alyana. Now, sleep.'_

It was good to be the Archsage sometimes… especially when you could abuse the power it gave you.

When she fell asleep, Alyria's dreams were only of vibrant green eyes and sweet kisses stolen under the moonlight.

* * *

 **Final notes:** If you find any typo or mistake contact me and I'll quickly fix it.

Basically, I took a look at the original one-shot from 6 years ago purely because I've been replaying the game for a project and I was honestly embarrassed reading what I wrote at the time. Jesus, it was incredibly juvenile and cringy, so I decided to see if I could rework it into something better. For example. Alyn's section is also gone because it was a jarring shift and I turned this outright into a Fateless One x Ciara one-shot, expanding their section.

Hopefully, the interaction between the two is now much better and more believable.

Review if you want and give me your thoughts on this piece.

See you around!


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